


Combat

by prince_kayden



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Tickling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:21:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22056958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prince_kayden/pseuds/prince_kayden
Summary: Reader asks Ben to teach them how to fight with a lightsaber, but it proved harder than they expected
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Ben Solo/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Combat

**Author's Note:**

> also dedicated to a-simple-lee  
> im still thinking about that part 2

It had seemed like a great idea at the time. But what ideas don't go horribly wrong at some point, really. 

You had seen Ben practice and faux battle with his lightsaber too many times to count, and enough times to want to learn how to do it yourself. But even apart from it looking really cool, it made you realize just how defenseless you really were. You grew up never needing to learn self defense - luckily - and you were never one for sport either, rather preferring quieter activities like reading and drawing. So, after anxiously mulling it over in your head for weeks, you approached Ben and asked him to teach you. To which he responded that you'll have to start with basic hand to hand combat first. 

Fair.

Though now, panting and sore all over, you were beginning to question your choices. Your back hurt all the way through to the front of your chest from the amount of times you've been tackled to the floor. 'You need to learn how to fall so you don't injure yourself' yeah okay, whatever. You were hot, you were sticky and sweaty, and you lay like a ragdoll on the floor.

"Come on, you're not even trying." Ben scolded from above you where he had you pinned to the ground.

You sent him an unamused glare. "I'm tired."

"Already?" He chuckled lightly, "you won't get anywhere at this rate."

"That's encouraging, thank you." You turned your head to stare straight up above you blankly. "I'm tired and my whole body hurts."

"Oh I'm sorry, did you think this would be easy?"

"I'm thinking I should reconsider my choice of teacher."

"Oi." Ben sent a pinch to your side, grinning widely when you twisted away at the sensation, "less of the attitude."

"Dooon't," you whined tiredly, pushing his hand away from you. You attempted to roll out from underneath him, but Ben shifted his hold on you so you couldn't escape, throwing his forearm across your sternum, from shoulder to shoulder, and pressing you down to the ground. You realized in that moment he hadn't been using even half of his strength while he taught you earlier.

"Alright, let's try this," Ben spoke, slinging a leg across both of yours, pressing down with his knee, "try to get out of my hold."

"Ben, c'mon, I already said I'm tire-ACK!" You broke off with a squeal when he squeezed your side again. You jerked against his hold automatically and found yourself completely anchored to the ground. 

Ben found and held your gaze, mirth playing at the corners of his eyes, and slowly, deliberately, flexed his fingers against your side. It didn't tickle, it was too slow to, but your spluttering protests in response to the movement must have confirmed something in Ben's mind, because he was quick to start tickling you in earnest. Up and down your ribs and side, squeezing, wriggling, and prodding, and making you laugh out loud.

"Ben, no, please-"

"Get out of my hold and I'll stop." He interrupted over your laughter, kicking the tickling up a notch when he felt you try to escape.

"Stop! This isn't fair," you yelled through your cackling, pushing at his arms, chest, trying to fold your legs up - anything to flee from his ceaseless touches.

"Why isn't it fair? Because you weren't listening to my instructions earlier and now you're stuck? That's entirely on you." He leaned further over you so you couldn't avoid his gaze and watched you for a moment.

"Or is it because you don't want me to know you actually like being tickled?" His grin was positively lethal.

"No!"

"'No' what?"

"Let me UP!"

"Get out of my hold."

This was excruciating. 

"I can't!"

"Then answer this question;" Ben slowed his assault by a fraction, "why don't you tell me how you like being tickled?"

"I don't!" You whined, giggles still spilling from your lips uncontrollably.

"Don't give me that, you know you can't lie." Ben rolled his eyes. "Should I give you some options to choose from?"

Still laughing, face burning, you shook your head in protest.

"How about this?" Ben skittered his fingers along your stomach, "or this?", drilled his thumb into your hip, making you jerk violently, "or is this better?", squeezes to your side again.

"The third one, the third one!!" You yelled, desperate for it to stop. True to his word, he stopped, laying his palm flat against your side and easing up on his hold enough that you could twist away from him. 

Which you did, rolling away from him until you met with the nearby wall, laying with your back to him, resting your sweaty forehead against the cold concrete.

"So same time tomorrow?"

You flipped him off behind you and ignored his uproar of laughter. You'd get him back for this.


End file.
